


This Dance (A Coming Storm)

by orphan_account



Category: Firefly
Genre: M/M, possibly i went a bit overboard on the ocean imagery - pun unintended but appreciated, there's a bit of angst but not to worry it's me i can't write two pure angst fics in a row
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-08 08:20:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12860568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: His eyes were blue like the ocean, the sky on an autumn day—like all the things he couldn't have out in the black.





	This Dance (A Coming Storm)

**Author's Note:**

> It feels weird writing in past tense again after so long but this happened on its own I had no hand in it

Mal stood along one of the walls, arms crossed over his chest, eyes scanning over each of the fancily done-up guests. He tried not to glare at each newcomer who wasn’t their employer, but judging by how these Core-aspiring types seemed reluctant to go within a good few paces of him, he figured he wasn’t doing a mighty good job of it.

Zoë was dancing with Wash, of course. Kaylee was giggling at the way her long, frilled skirt twirled around her legs as Simon twirled her around the ballroom, him looking right at home and her looking just as out of place as at the last fancy shindig but not enjoying herself any less for it. Inara had declined to join them, and she and Book were looking after River back on _Serenity_ , where Jayne was holding down the fort—this weren’t no kind of place for him, he’d said. It weren’t no kind of place for Mal either, but this was where he was supposed to meet their employer.

Who was late.

It was already five minutes past the agreed-upon meeting time, and with each passing minute that this Fox person didn’t show, he only grew antsier. He was starting to think this was a sham, a waste of time. But waste of time or not, he wanted this done with soon. Way he saw it, the sooner this was over, the sooner he could get back and get out of this gorram suit, the better it would be for everyone.

As the next song began, Simon appeared in front of him, looking vaguely amused. Mal’s gaze flicked over to where he’d last seen him and Kaylee and unsurprisingly spotted her pink monstrosity of a dress over by the food tables. He blinked his attention back to the man in front of him just as Simon reached out to unfold his arms for him, and before he knew what was happening, his right hand was in Simon’s left, his left being placed on Simon’s shoulder before the doc’s right settled at his waist. He only stumbled slightly over his feet as Simon led him smoothly to join the other couples.

That amused, almost self-satisfied look hadn’t left his face as he raised an eyebrow at him and prompted, “What?”

“Why’ve I gotta be the girl.”

“Because you’re sulking like one who hasn’t been asked to dance,” Simon replied simply.

He scowled, no doubt only amusing the doc further, and groused, “I’m waitin’ for our employer. He’s late.”

Simon blinked, teasing smirk dissolving to concern and seriousness in an instant, his eyes darting over the ballroom around them for a moment before returning to him. “Do you know what he looks like?”

“No. But he knows me, apparently, and I’m supposed to know him when I see him.”

The doc’s lips parted on an ‘ah,’ and he nodded in understanding. “Well, you can watch for him just as well like this, and I’ll keep an eye out for someone who recognizes you, too,” he said, leaving no room for argument. He smiled and deftly maneuvered them nearer to the center of the room for a better vantage, his eyes already scanning over the faces and figures of the guests for someone who could be Fox.

Mal followed suit, but he soon found his attention drawn inexorably to the man in his arms. He couldn’t even find it in him to care that he was staring, blatantly so. Simon’s gaze passed over him in the lookout that Mal had all but forgotten about, only to backtrack not a moment later to seek out his own gaze, unwavering. It was dangerous, this, how Mal could feel his world narrowing to this man in front of him yet wouldn’t, couldn’t do anything about it. His eyes were blue like the ocean, the sky on an autumn day—like all the things he couldn’t have out in the black. But maybe here…

Their steps slowed as one by unspoken agreement as song and dance continued unheeded around them, and his fingers skimmed over Simon’s shoulder and up his neck to come to rest at his jaw, thumb brushing at the corner of his lips, lips which parted as Simon tipped his chin up expectantly as Mal leaned in…

A hand at his arm broke the siren spell, startled them apart. “Malcolm Reynolds.”

Stepping back and dropping his hands to his sides, he turned toward the smooth contralto to see a woman in a slinky black dress that shimmered under the lights—it was a normal chandelier here, which made him less uneasy than one of those fancy-dandy floating ones—her handsome face and glimmering hazel eyes framed by long, russet curls run through by a single lock of snowy white, like a fox’s tail.

He looked to Simon, and tried not to feel disappointed when the man smiled and excused himself to rejoin Kaylee. Some things, after all, were just not to be.

* * *

Later, after they’d finished the job and gotten paid, after they’d taken off and were surrounded once more by the comfortingly familiar emptiness of the black, after the relative silence of what passed for night on _Serenity_ fell, Mal found Simon on the observation deck, watching as distant stars slowly passed by. He’d planned to leave him to himself and continue on his walk, but something in the set of the other man’s shoulders had him stepping into the room and leaning back against the doorframe.

“Can’t sleep either?”

Simon turned to face him, unsurprised by his presence, his lips pressed into a wry smile. “When can I ever?” he returned.

He shrugged; he knew the feeling.

He expected Simon to turn back to his stargazing then, but he didn’t; they just stood there, neither of them moving, neither quite able to meet the other’s eyes, letting the silence stretch out to fill the span of the room between them almost expectantly.

“You know,” he said at length, pushing off from the doorframe and closing the distance between them, “I don’t think we finished our dance the other night.”

“Now that you mention it, I don’t think we did.”

“Reckon we oughta change that?”

“I think we should,” Simon agreed, eyes glimmering as Mal drew him into his arms and began a slow dance. “Though if I remember correctly, it was I who’d led.”

“Yeah?”

Simon only hummed in answer, a content smile gracing his features. He looked thoughtful for a moment as he slipped his hand from Mal’s to wrap both arms around his neck, Mal letting his hand fall to Simon’s waist, before he smiled and began to hum a beautiful, hauntingly familiar tune that Mal couldn’t place.

He could feel Simon’s eyes on him as he watched the subtle movements of the man’s lips and jaw as they shaped the flowing melody. He ducked in to press a kiss to them, and when Simon smiled into it, he pulled him closer and kissed him again, fiercely, all burning heat and desperate, bruising force.

Simon gentled the kiss, his hands framing Mal’s jaw and fingers sliding into hair, achingly sweet; his tongue ran along the seam of Mal’s lips, and he parted them easily, willingly, Simon the current around his legs, pulling him under, drowning him. He clutched tightly at the soft material of Simon’s shirt at his waist, his anchor in the crashing tides.

When they parted, as Mal sucked in air, he took in the other’s appearance: the heave of his chest as he caught his breath, the part of kiss-swollen lips, the flush staining high on his cheeks, the slight smile quirking at the corner of his mouth as he finally opened his eyes to meet his gaze, the blue of them turned to gray like a coming storm in the low light.

Maybe he already had him, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> I realized partway through that I don't know if this is even probable, but I decided to follow through with it anyway since it wouldn't leave my head and refused to change. My ideas can be just as stubborn as I am at times
> 
> Their speech style was a bit difficult for me, especially with me only having watched the show once so far, but I tried my best with it, though I'm not sure how well I handled it; if it was a little closer to a Texan dialect, I'd probably be more confident. Now that I'm thinking about it again (months later), I realize I probably woulda been fine throwing some _ain't_ s in there, but at the time, I couldn't remember if they'd used any. Writing this was a challenge through and through, but it's one I'd be willing to take on again if the chance presented itself, especially since I am planning on rewatching it real soon since I've got the movie too now


End file.
